


Cosmic

by tellthenight



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Angst, Heavy Angst, Loss, M/M, Season 12 adjacent, Suicidal Ideation, season 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 08:26:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10895505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tellthenight/pseuds/tellthenight
Summary: Dean and Sam deal with Cas's cosmic consequences for killing Billie the Reaper.





	Cosmic

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is not necessarily a coda to 12.21, but it does acknowledge a certain event that happens in that episode, so it kind of fits the "coda" description.
> 
> If you are concerned about the tags, there is a short summary in the end note you can jump to that my help you decide if you want to read this fic.

At first, Dean doesn’t want Sam to know, but one night becomes two and when it hits bender it doesn’t really matter anymore. Not until Sam throws him in the shower.

“Fuck you!” Dean sputters.

“Fine, fuck me, but I’ve lost enough people.” Sam turns the water colder.

“I’ll-- I’ll--” Dean holds up his hand in defense against the cold spray. “Fuckin’ turn it off!” he roars.

“Not ‘til you stop being a dick!” Sam shoots back.

Dean pushes himself up but bender plus wet tile fails to yield coordination. He slides hard and lands on his ass, his head cracking back against the tile wall. He sees the black and thinks maybe he finally made it, but Sam grasps his face and pries his eyes open.

“Dammit, Dean, come on...”

Dean swats him away, eyes still shut. “Get the fuck off me.” He tries to give his words bite but they sound like he feels--- pale, weak, forsaken.

The knob squeaks and the water stops. Sam slides down next to him, their shoulders fit together.

Dean waits for the lecture or the calm, understanding brother routine. Sam reached expert level in both awhile back, but that doesn’t mean Dean has to listen.

“Please,” Sammy says, and Dean crushes his eyes closed hard enough to fire off stars in front of the ones he already has.

“I can’t do this with you,” he continues. Dean knows there are more words tacked to the back, but Sammy doesn’t want to say them. Maybe can’t.

“You’re strong,” Dean says.

“You honestly think I’d still be if you did that?”

“Listen.” Dean has to be careful--make him understand the inevitability. “You can go to Jody when I--”

“Dean!”

“It’s killing me anyway, Sam. Cas pays for eternity just because I made a stupid fucking deal.”

“We all agreed to it. It’s on all of us.”

“The deal was for a Winchester, and I’m gonna give ‘em one.”

“They don’t need another one.”

Dean doesn’t look ‘cause he hears the choke in Sam’s voice. If he looks he’ll lose his resolve.

“I just wanna talk to him. I promise. Just one time and you can bring me back.”

“Then summon him.”

“I already did. Once.” Dean tries to swallow, but his throat’s bone dry. He starts to shake, maybe from the cold after being soaked through, or maybe because he needs another shot or ten. What’s it been? A couple hours passed out? He has no idea.

Sam hunches next to him, and Dean finally looks. His brother is pale, long stringy hair pushed back behind his ears. His cheekbones haven’t stood out like that since the trials almost killed him.

“You saw him? When?”

Like Dean even cares what day it is. “Before this. Before I… did this.”

Sam nods next to him. “What did he say? I mean, what did he...Is he good?”

“Thought he’d go black suit,” Dean said. “Maybe the hood. That’s traditional, right? But Cas, you know-- he’s still in the same goddamn suit Jimmy was wearing the first time Cas tried him on.”

Dean pulls his knees up and huddles over them.

“Did he lose the coat?” Sam asks.

Dean chokes up. “It ain’t lost, but he’s not wearing it anymore.” He laughs, pathetic and small. Dean drops his head down and hopes telling Sam what happened will make it easier when he’s gone. “He said he wouldn’t come back if I summoned him again. Not til it’s time to reap me.”

“Dean.” Sam’s voice breaks on his name, and he can’t keep it together. He shakes and cries and Sammy pulls him to his chest. Dean lets his little brother hold him like a child as he sobs.

“I know it’s hard, Dean, but there’re no take backs here. Cas is gone. That’s one Winchester down, and we can’t afford to lose anyone else. Especially not you. We have to gather all the American hunters and take down the Brits before they kill us all. We’re responsible for all those lives.”

“They’ll gather behind you. Me, not so much.” Dean looks down into his hands. The bruises from the last fight are fading, mostly yellows and greens now. The splint for his fractured finger is gone, but he doesn’t know when he did that. It throbs now; time for a drink.

“You’re wrong.”

“No, I’m not,” Dean says. “You gotta keep going. Join up with Jody and Claire and fight the good fight.”

Sam grinds his knuckles into his eyes then drags his long fingers down his face and into the beginnings of a beard. “You have to get your head back in the game, Dean. There isn’t time for this. I know you’re hurting--”

“You don’t know anything about this,” Dean gets his feet under him and Sam jumps up, faster without the beginnings of a hangover weighing him down.

“You’re not the only one who lost someone.” Sam’s nostrils flare and his mouth twitches. More words he won’t say.

“You have no idea what I lost!” Dean rages. “He’s everything and we were meant for more than five fucking minutes on the same page about us! You can’t possibly understand this!”

“They killed Eileen! They hunted her and tore her apart! ” Sam steps forward, tall and threatening with his hand clenched at his sides. Dean makes himself a wall and silently dares his brother to do it. He wants it--deserves it.

Sam swallows and breathes, a thousand thoughts crossing his face before his shoulders slump, and the rest of him loosens. ”She couldn’t see it or hear it and… Dean… she must have been so afraid, and alone, and…”

Dean grabs him around the body and hugs him tight. Sam holds on and tries to breathe.

“Don’t go, Dean. Not right now.” He begs so quietly that Dean wants to pretend he didn’t hear.

“Okay, Sam.”

When Sam retreats to the library, Dean changes out his stiff wet clothes for the closest t-shirt and pajama pants. He retreats to his bed, exhaustion hitting him in every limb. He pulls the trenchcoat up to his chin like a blanket and closes his eyes. He doesn’t know if Cas can hear him pray anymore, but if that’s all he has he’ll try anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> whispers... If I were writing the end of season 12, Cas’s cosmic consequence for killing Billie would be becoming Death... right after Dean realizes his feelings for Cas. But Cas has a far higher calling now, and nothing can get in the way of that. Dean cannot deal, and this fic is the result. 
> 
> come talk to me on tumblr: @tellthenight


End file.
